


Play On

by LeoDios



Category: Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: AU - Leo is a DJ, Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 20:28:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5062948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeoDios/pseuds/LeoDios
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cristiano Ronaldo is hanging out on a beach in Barcelona when he runs into Leo, a young man giving music lessons to a couple of kids.<br/>Something about Leo intrigues the football superstar and he decides to see what would happen if...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Play On

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, so I've been reading some great AU fic on here and I decided to give it a go myself! I have no idea how this is going to go since it's the first time I'm writing AU so your comments and feedback will be especially helpful and welcome!
> 
> Cristiano is still a Real Madrid superstar but Leo is a DJ/musician in Barcelona. They come from totally different worlds so let's see what happens!
> 
> PS: the rating will definitely change soon!

When Cristiano was a child, he often had a recurring dream. In the dream, a ball appeared out of nowhere and rolled to his feet. He would kick it and it would roll ahead, running away from him seemingly on its own volition. Depending on the dream, the ball would lead him to amazing places or perfectly mundane neighbourhoods. The important thing, Cris realised, was not where it took him but the feeling he got from the dream. Was he frightened or joyous? Happy?

He wasn't sure when he stopped having those dreams, but it left him with a sense that anything could happen in his life, if he allowed it to. So far, that appeared to be true.

When he saw the young man on the beach with a guitar, he was suddenly reminded of that long forgotten dream. He was sitting with two children, a boy and a girl, and seemingly giving them lessons. At one point, while the children practised on their own guitars, the young man looked away towards the water and absently strummed a tune.

The strains of the guitar reached Cris across the distance and he found himself standing up and walking towards the group.

"I know that song," he said, and the man glanced behind his shoulder.

"Yes it's an old Portuguese song," he said, continuing to strum softly. He suddenly smiled, amused, which meant that Cris had been recognised. And he was in Barcelona. Not the greatest place for Cris to be seen.

"Ah that's why it was so familiar," he mumbled awkwardly, cursing himself for being so impulsive.

Even being here in public alone like this was a stupid idea, but sometimes he just liked to get away from his teammates and everyone else. He was flying back to Madrid soon anyway, where there were even fewer places to escape to.

The man was gently adjusting the girl's fingers so they pressed the strings correctly. Then he continued strumming the song, as if Cris wasn't standing behind him.

"Sorry for interrupting," Cris finally offered, turning to leave.

"Don't be sorry," came the reply, "someone played this song the other day and I'm trying to remember more of it. But I can only remember the first part, and of course I don't know the words. Do you know how to sing it?"

Cristiano stared at the stranger's back. He was small, compact and fit, and he could make out the outlines of the muscles on his back and arms as he played the instrument.

"Hmm?" he said softly, glancing behind his shoulder again.

"Uh what?" Cris felt a little flustered.

"I asked if you know how to sing it?"

He turned around so he was facing Cris.

"Oh no. I didn't even remember what song until you mentioned it was Portuguese..."

"Ah. Too bad."

He had a really charming smile, dimples, and he looked up at Cris expectantly.

"I...I'm Cristiano." He extended his hand, feeling stupid.

"Leo," he replied, taking his hand.

"Again, sorry for interrupting."

"I'm surprised you hang out in public in Barcelona and talk to strangers."

Leo had a mischievous look in his eyes.

"I don't normally," Cris murmured, "it's just that I heard that melody..."

He trailed off, not knowing how to explain.

"And it made you stand up and walk towards it. Right?"

"Right."

Cris wasn't sure if he was making fun of him.

"I know that feeling."

"It reminded me of a dream I used to have," he blurted out.

"Tell me."

"I...where is your accent from?"

It suddenly registered to him that the man didn't have any kind of Spanish accent.

"It's from Rosario. Argentina."

"Oh. I know people from Rosario."

"Angel Di Maria?" Leo smirked.

Cris laughed.

"Yes. Among others."

His phone buzzed and he frowned, silencing it.

"I should go," he said reluctantly.

"Okay Cristiano. Have a great day."

He smiled, and Cris couldn't help noticing the dimples again, and turned towards the children. 

Cris turned around and scanned the beach. His assistant had messaged him, telling him it was absolutely time to get back to the hotel to the rest of the team if he wanted to make his flight back to Madrid.

But what if he followed the ball? Where would it take him this time?

"I want to stay in Barcelona tonight. Please book me a hotel and a flight in the morning." He quickly typed into his phone.

Then he turned around and gazed at Leo speaking to the children. His head was bent down to them and he spoke gently, arranging their fingers on their instruments every once in a while.

He turned back towards Cris, smiling a little and raising an eyebrow. Cris swallowed a little nervously.

"Do you still want to hear about that dream?"

*


End file.
